Egyptian Cotton
by starsarefading
Summary: She yawned and asked him teasingly, you are gonna be there, right? [LL.] One Shot.


Disclamer: I own a lake. No, seriously, my mother bought a place where there's a lake and put the lake under my name. I own a lake. This lake is the only thing I own, the only thing I've ever owned in my life. Please don't sue.

Note: I am so unsure about this fic that even as I type, I consider giving up and not putting it online. It may be what's called 'PWP?' (Plot, what plot?). I wrote it a while ago, for a number of reasons it's only being posted now... maybe because tonight I seem to have grown a backbone... but don't worry, it won't last long.

Someone said to _Harmony _ that it was uncomplicated. Eee! That's what I was going for! Now, back away slowly, this isn't like the other one. ;)

Love: to **Ari**, the pretty beta. To the JJs are my love, too. Reviews? Are also love. Thank you. :)

* * *

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Egyptian Cotton

**

On the tip of her toes, she made her way to the window. Despite having half-expected (half-hoped) for this, Lorelai's heart bumped against her chest excitedly; she turned her head back to make sure there was no one else awake. The window's frame was cold and she trembled, trying to open it without making the usual creaking sound. Even though it wasn't as cold as she had expected, the air was humid and the wind quickly blew inside the room.

"What are you doing?" She didn't mean to sound as harsh as she did, but it didn't make her feel bad; of all the days to be spontaneous...

"I am climbing up your window," he replied matter-of-factly, without taking a look at her.

Impatient, she resisted the urge to tap her foot and stare. "Well, thank you for that helpful insight."

He stopped and shrugged. "No problem."

She waited for him to reach the window, held his shoulder when he did and tried to help him in. But he was heavy, and she wasn't strong, so it only served to bring them both crashing on the carpet, making a loud thump. Her back hit the bed's leg and she threw her head back to groan with pain. He, however, found a much smoother landing place in her chest.

She pushed him off her more with more affection than he deserved and moved away from the bed to stretch her back. "If this is your way of finally flying over the cuckoo's nest, I have to tell you: _bad_ timing."

Still, she couldn't hold back a smile when he offered his hand to help her get up and pulled her to him, showing that the hand offer wasn't a very altruistic one.

"You told me to come," he said.

"It was a joke," she replied in a reprehending tone.

But her smile couldn't lie; he just wasn't unwelcome.

Lorelai took a moment to breathe the freshness of the air coming in through the window and rested her head on his chest ever so slightly before easing away. "It's cold."

He took her hint and closed the window, careful to bring the windowpane down silently. "Leave it open, might get too dark," she whispered just as he started to move the curtain. He stopped, weighted that too dark might not be so bad, but decided to leave it open anyway.

She walked to her door slowly and pressed her ear to it; she wouldn't dare pull it open, as everyone knows, doors can be incredibly loud when you don't want them to be. She listened for steps, voices or anything outside that could indicate someone was awake. Not hearing anything, she turned around to see him already sitting on the bed and taking his shoes off.

"Found anything, Harriet?"

He was amused.

She glared.

"If my mother catches you in here, you're dead." She then made a neck-cutting movement with her hand to further indicate her point.

His face instantly fell and, not without satisfaction, she watched his breath catch in his throat. "Your mother is here?" he whispered conspiratorially.

She gave him a dead-serious nod.

He made a grumpy sound. "Geez, why didn't you say something?"

She joined him in bed, without taking her robe off, and settled on his arm. Then she raised her voice, on purpose, and answered in the sassier voice she could muster, "Did you ask?" He flinched and held her close to him, not dignifying an answer.

"The party ended up going on until later than we had planned, and Patty gave mom a few too many Cuba Libres so I couldn't let her drive home," she explained in a low voice.

"She drinks Cuba Libre?" He couldn't hold a small grin at the thought.

"She didn't want any of the drinks with 'funny names' and we wouldn't let her have water, so she settled for coke." She shrugged and turned to him with a mischievous smile, "I don't think she knew we'd spiced them up." He chuckled.

She smiled and let herself slide down to his chest. His fingers started combing her hair in long, slow stokes. "What about Rory? You didn't get her drunk."

"If you say so," she replied teasingly. He stopped massaging her scalp immediately and lifted his left eyebrow in a question. She pouted before admitting, "I just fed her Shirley Temples, nazi."

He nodded and let his hand get tangled in hair her again.

Lorelai closed her eyes, feeling the rise and fall of his chest put her into a daze just like a lullaby. "I shouldn't see you anymore," she said bluntly; words too raw, too out of place in such a late, lazy night.

He sighed, knowing her words were less than conscious. "Why?"

She paused, sucked a slow breath and rethought her words before answering, "the wedding is today."

He stirred. "Do you want me to go?"

She kissed his chest and drowsily replied, "No, stay."

* * *

She snuggled into her pillow and smiled when she gained conscience of the arm around her waist. Her eyes fluttered open and it took her a few seconds to take in the brightness of the surroundings. The room was lighter and outside the sky was blue, somber and cloudless. It wasn't morning just yet.

Lorelai lifted herself carefully and kissed his chin. He didn't move, his breathing didn't stagger. Assured that he was in deep sleep, she moved his arm off her carefully and got off the bed. She let herself watch him sleep for only just a second; she'd never liked leaving him to sleep alone.

Downstairs, the living room was quiet as it never was during the day (not when she was in it, anyway), and the only light coming in was from the small gap between the second window's curtain. On the couch, Rory slept soundly. Lorelai had offered her mother her own bed, but both Emily and Rory insisted that it was Lorelai's wedding day and therefore she had to have a good night's sleep. Rory offered Emily her bed then, and told her mother that she'd sleep on the couch.

"It's your last night as a single woman! Do you really want to share the bed?" she'd said teasingly. Lorelai had rolled her eyes and agreed with it then. "Fine, but you'd better be up and shining tomorrow, or else..."

Now she was very grateful that Rory had stayed on the couch, otherwise he wouldn't have found her alone and they'd have a very weird situation on their hands.

Lorelai walked to the hall and struggled a little to find the front closet's door handle in the dark. It didn't matter though, the familiar tingle started to run through her spine, and she took a long, happy sigh when she caught a glimpse of the only thing inside the cupboard. The lonely hanger held the dress, white and gorgeous, the most beautiful gown she'd ever seen. She couldn't wait; she suddenly found herself fighting the urge to giggle like a pre-teen, put it on and show it off. Taking the dress from the rack slowly, she placed it in front of herself.

When she told her parents about the wedding, they were less than thrilled. Lorelai had a purposefully faded memory of that night; her father staying quiet all dinner, going into his office and not coming back out, her mother making some snide commentary about getting married on a barn, and then getting hot blooded and fighting, insults flying all around.

They hadn't spoken to each other for a while after that, not until the day Emily had shown up on her doorstep.

"Are you going to follow through with this, Lorelai?" she had asked demandingly, barely inside yet. Lorelai replied that she yes, was. "Then there's a lot of planning to do."

From then on, her mother had taken charge of the wedding planning. At first it left Lorelai stunned and a tad pissed, but one day she stopped by her parent's after work - her mother had 'strongly' suggested she do so, so that they could discuss possible places for the reception. But Lorelai had gotten there early, walking in on a group of very tidy DAR ladies drinking tea. All afternoon through, Emily had behaved gracefully, even ignoring the whispered comments, from which words like 'pregnant', 'rebellious' and 'diner' could be made out.

The best part of it had been that Emily never said a word to Lorelai about of it. And she had understood it was her mother's way of taking the punch, putting her daughter before social appearances, at least for once.

It didn't mean, though, that Lorelai hadn't gotten stressed over Emily's way of planning things a few times ("This is _my_ wedding, mom. If I want daisies, there will be daisies. God, if I want a blue pony, you'd better start looking for horse-paint!"), it just meant that she appreciated it.

They'd settled on a winter wedding, possibly amongst snow. Lorelai wouldn't have it anywhere but Stars Hollow, and they decided on the Gazebo. Sookie had giggled and said teasingly that now only Rory had to follow tradition. Rory had faked a coughing fit and tried to hide in her room after that.

She smiled fondly and shook herself to the right and to the left in a lulling pattern, almost like a small dance.

The gown was the only thing she had absolutely wanted to plan. Emily made sure she went to the best dressmaker, but Lorelai had been the one to say exactly how she wanted it. Rory and Sookie had been the only ones to see it, to everyone one else she wanted it to be surprise. Emily had demanded, pouted and whined in her own way, but Lorelai hadn't shown it.

A sudden throat-clearing sound from behind her brought her out of the near daydream state she'd been on. Lorelai shifted uncomfortably, she didn't have to look to see the amused smile her daughter had on her face.

"This is becoming a nasty habit of yours, Gilmore," Rory said, grin almost echoing on her voice.

Lorelai having been caught (and not for the first time), closed her eyes and groaned quietly. "Aren't you asleep?"

Rory shook her head when her mother appeared in full sight. "I was, but there seem to be some mice walking around the house at night."

Lorelai nodded innocently, putting the dress gently in the hanger and back in the closet. "We should really have this place inspected. Get a rat professional."

"Rat professional?"

"Uh-huh. It's the new 'dog professional', haven't you heard?" She walked towards the couch with a fake disapproving face. "I thought I was the one supposed to catch you in the act, being the mother."

Rory opened her eyes wide. "I think it's better if we agree to never catch each other in the act." She stopped and gave it some thought before adding, "ever."

Lorelai gave her an amused smile; walked to the other side of the couch, sat on its arm, and bent over to fix Rory's blankets, which were all over the place. "I smell snow," she said brightly.

Rory watched her mother turn to the closed window with a longing glance and felt a sting of jealousy when she thought of how her mom would now have someone else, someone else to share every part of he life with, someone else to be her company on the first snowfall. Then, biting her bottom lip, she recognized apprehensively that he had taken that role a while ago. Maybe it happened when he moved in, maybe she just never noticed. Somehow, it felt like it was her giving her mother away, not her grandfather. Rory shook her head slightly, as if it would shake the thoughts away too.

"Hah. Look at me," Lorelai got up and said self-mockingly when she caught herself wanting to try the dress on again. Another moment of silence passed, and Rory smiled when her mom took yet another glance at the hall. Suddenly, she felt the excitement in her very skin.

She poked Lorelai with her right foot to get her attention. "So, mom," she said with sparkling eyes and an ear-to-ear smile. "Do you only get married once?"

Lorelai looked down with the smallest grin, lifted herself up on her tiptoes giddily and looked straight at Rory with a smile dying to become a laugh. "You only get married once, kid."

* * *

She thoughtfully watched their hands intertwined, outstretched in the air. "I'm going to paint my nails red," she told him, making it sound like an important event.

His eyes narrowed in a curious expression, his eyes darted back and forth from their hands to her face . "Okay."

"Do you think I should?"

He looked around, half expecting to find the right answer written on the walls. "Isn't it some a fashion _don't_? Red nails and, hmm, wedding dress?" he asked earnestly. She lifted her eyebrows in surprise.

"You talk a lot about that make-over show," he told her; without adding that he had watched it a couple of times, because of her.

She smirked knowingly. "Oh, I see. Yes, red and wedding dress are a no-go. And it's going to drive my mom up the wall."

He stopped to wonder if he had missed something there before muttering absently, "I thought you two were getting along."

She shivered and he pulled herself closer to him, almost on his lap. She yawned and nodded happily. "We are. But it'll be like a going-away gift."

He kissed the crook of her neck. "A last rebellion?"

Her right hand squeezed his and her left one flew up to his chin, his scruff beard tickling her fingers. "No, I think you are enough of a last rebellion," she told him seriously. She propped herself up on one elbow then and watched his expression turn from calm to uncomfortable. Her hand slid up and down his chest. "Are we crazy?"

He was quiet for a moment, considering what to say. His hand caught hers on his chest and as he shifted more to his side, he brought back his own arm pulling hers along until it was totally stretched. "No. I'm the certifiable one, for being here with you," he answered, the twinkle in his eyes that seemed to show up around her (and she liked to think, only for her) not failing to make an appearance. He pulled her arm even more and she faltered in her position. "You are just... hyper."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "I am not_ hyper._"

He shot a look to show that he would not get into a 'are too', 'am not' fight with her. She yawned and asked him teasingly, "You are gonna be there, right?"

Lorelai watched him frown and saw his face turn serious with an expression she couldn't define, but that sent chills from her waist to her neck, across her spine, and she prayed it wasn't anything bad, because it was all already hard enough. He let go of her hand to move it to an itching spot of his chin. "Do you have doubts? About getting married?"

She didn't answer, nor thought about what to answer. She just closed her eyes tightly and thought irrationally that maybe, maybe the question would go away.

"Are you afraid?" he pressed on.

She opened her eyes again and saw him staring at her. "Yeah," she replied with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

He held on to the blanket tightly, doing his best not to push her into talking.

She simply shrugged and laid on her back. "Can you expect someone to make a life-long commitment without feeling at least a little, tiny, 'The Borrowers' teeny bit like they're on the edge of a precipice?" She paused and smiled, hoping for understanding. "It's a big step."

"But this is what I want," she added, surprised at how true it did actually sound. Grinning teasingly, she continued, "despite the bleeding ulcer I seem to have developed these last few months," she finished.

He waited a couple of seconds to see if she still wanted to say anything and then shrugged slightly. "I'll be there."

"Good." She turned to hold his chin, smiling. "Shave."

He didn't answer. She chuckled and pouted mockingly. "Why do guys have to be so macho sometimes?"

He sat up with confused look on his face. "What? What are you talking abo...," he stopped talking, shaking his head vaguely. He'd already learned that pursuing the meaning of every single thing she said only led to a dead end.

She grinned triumphantly and reached his shoulder with her hand, bringing him down on top of her unceremoniously. "You know, being hyper and all... so much energy, and I don't want to be jumping up and down at the altar," she told him, already moving to kiss his neck.

His brain took a moment to register what she was saying, but when it did he pulled himself away and was satisfied to see the surprise on her face. "That doesn't make sense," he said, close to her lips.

She held his face away, keeping him from coming closer just like he had done to her. She smiled defiantly, slid her other hand down his back and tugged his shirt. "So? Do you care?"

He was stronger than her, though, and soon she couldn't hold him away anymore. His mouth moved hers, she allowed him to taste and take; allowed herself to linger. Cold with warm made him shiver when her bare hand touched his back; she was secretly glad that he hadn't cared.

A gasp whipped the air and shattered the room.

* * *

The light outside had already gone from blue to yellow and it came in through the window hitting the ceiling, the floor and her.

He was sitting up with his back against the wall, watching all her toenails turn from pink to red slowly. She had moved to the other side of the bed, one leg stretched on the bed and the other one crossed over the other. Beside her on the bed sat the plastic nail polish bottle, dangerously left open. These and the thin sheet were the only things left on the bed, the other blanket and mattress had been thrown on the floor despite the cold air.

He'd asked her why she didn't just have someone paint her nails, like her mother and Rory were going to do. She answered that if she did it with them, Emily would never let her paint them the way she wanted.

"I have to go." He'd said it gravely, determinately, but she didn't hesitate before throwing him a giddy smile and replying, "_It is not near day: it's the nightingale; and not the lark -_"

He stared at her blankly, unexpressive eyes. "What? Oh, you are no fun," she whined.

His arms were resting crossed over his chest and he didn't move at all when he answered seriously, "and I like it that way."

Lorelai recognized instantly that we was flirting with her, expecting her to say that she liked it too. She pretended not to be flattered, despite the grin on her face, and went back to her nail-painting. She knew the rules and refused to play by them. He didn't say anything for a while and she, wondering if he was asleep, looked up only to find him staring at her, looking strangely at peace.

She liked him at peace, soft, warm and suspiciously undressed under her sheets.

Then again, she also liked him grumpy.

Lorelai grinned and quickly leant forward. He saw her move and realized what she was going to do but he was barely awake and she was sly, when he moved to stop her, it was already too late. Her toe left an uneven red trace on his skin, from his right shoulder to the middle of his arm, and she smiled seeing the horrified look on his face. "Geez."

"Oh, my -" she said when she saw the red stain growing on the bed. The plastic bottle had fallen, she realized two minutes too late. He blinked and looked at her for an explanation.

"You were staring!" she told him giggly, taking the bottle and putting it on the floor carefully. "My fingernail is smeared now." She sat beside him to avoid the red paint, chuckled at his comical face and dangled her foot.

"Oh, and it's my fault? Just remove it," he retorted.

She smiled boldly. "The polish remover is downstairs. Rory used it," she stopped and looked down to the floor, making sure that the bottle was still up and in place. "I'm not going down there, but if you want to go get it..."

"I'll just wash it off then," he said, already getting up to go.

She shook her head. "It's already dry," she said, passing her thumb over the long streak she'd left on him and bringing it up to show him that she was telling the truth. "Won't come off with water now. Quick drying - one of man's greatest inventions."

That's when he got grumpy. "And how am I gonna get this off?"

She lifted her arm nonchalantly. "Keep it. You're not going shirt-less, are you?"

He lifted his eyebrows daringly, as if it were a good idea. Lorelai slid over him and pressed her hand against his chest. "Okay, go then. I think Patty and Babette will be exceptionally pleased." She smirked and turned to sit by his side again. "Maybe even Kirk."

He groaned, deciding that it was better to put a shirt on. They stayed quiet then, gazing at the drying red on her white sheet. She rested her head on his now red shoulder. They listened a while to the movement downstairs and both of them froze when Rory said she was coming up to tell Lorelai that she was already going with Emily to the Ianholt's to get a head start on hair, make-up and all that jazz. Thankfully, she decided that her mother deserved more sleep and left a note instead.

"Too bad," he stated, breaking the silence, "I was beginning to get the importance of egyptian cotton."

She chuckled amusedly and turned to fall on top of him. "How do you know that it's egyptian cotton?" She gave him a knowing smile then. "Been around, huh?"

He shrugged and slid his arm around her. "I had my days."

She gaped, surprised. "You don't tell me that you've been around!" She hit him playfully. "You deny it to death!"

"Sorry," he replied casually, nuzzling her neck. He held her and she wished that the damn stained sheet were on the floor too. "Hey, Luke? Are you afraid of what's gonna happen after ?" she asked.

He curled his lips and looked her in the eyes. "No."

She smiled and felt silly. She couldn't tell if he was lying or not, but she didn't mind. Maybe someday she'd know how to tell when he lied. Maybe he just didn't lie, he was practical enough not to lie. There was time to find out. But, suddenly, she loved him- not that she didn't love him before - she loved him because he lied, she loved him because he didn't and she loved him for knowing what she wanted to hear. He was simple where she couldn't be, and she loved that too. Someday she'd tell him.

Lorelai kissed him lazily, parting her lips and melting slowly. His thumb ran down her back, slipping under her waistband. "Why do you have so many clothes on?" he whispered.

She planted small tingling kisses on his neck. "Freeze," she told him impatiently, "death."

But she wasn't cold anymore.

"Damn egyptian cotton."

* * *

The walls were white. The tables were made of dark wood. There were no paintings on the wall; there was a mirror but it had a simple wooden framework. This could just possibly be the most boring house ever. Lorelai sighed. But it was the closest one to the square, exactly in front of where the altar had been set up and the Ianholts had very nicely let her use it to get prepared and wait until it was time, so that she could walk to the Gazebo without her feet falling off cold.

Emily had proposed a carriage, but Lorelai thought it was too over the top. It was a dream idea, sure, but she'd wanted to walk because truthfully, whenever she imagined the wedding, she imagined herself walking. So no carriage, no Rolls-Royce, no limo.

"I heard you were late today."

Lorelai jumped. "God, dad!" She put a hand over her abdomen, trying to inhale. "Yeah. I lost track of time."

"Your mother couldn't stop going on about your irresponsibility, being late to get ready on your own wedding day," Richard told her solemnly. "I couldn't listen to it anymore."

She rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Yeah, well, mom can do that to you sometimes." Her eyes and mind wandered, just like they had been doing since he'd left the house.

She had told him that she couldn't be late. He had told her that Rory and Emily could wait, the hairdresser could wait. "They'll understand."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I'm late 'cause I was busy having sex with Luke." He'd flinched. Maybe not.

But she'd been late anyway.

After he went, she stayed just a while, drank the coffee he had made for her, finished painting her nails and considered throwing away the stained egyptian cotton sheet. She decided not to in the end, for purely selfish reasons.

"Lorelai?" She shook her head, surprised. Taking a breath, she willed herself to focus on her father. "You don't look like you were late."

She smiled and took a peek at herself in the mirror. Turning back, she saw her father looking at her with a face she'd only seen him look at Rory with.

He had been a much better sport than her mother during the whole wedding fever. He'd never gotten too excited, she could tell that it wasn't exactly what he wanted for her. But he'd congratulated her sincerely when she'd told him, and it had stayed at that.

Today he looked proud.

Lorelai walked over to him, and without any warning of what she about to do - no permission , she hugged him. He was surprised, and even though he never hugged her back quite as tightly, he held her and his hand grazed a curl of her hair and tugged it for just a second. She knew he was happy; if nothing else, for her.

Rory knocked and walked in with an embarrassed smile. "It's almost time. We have to go."

Lorelai smiled, took another look at the mirror and replied, "Let's."

Richard made a sign for her to go before him, and she shot an excited look at Rory who responded with a smile. She walked down the stairs under everyone's watchful eyes. Sookie broke the silence and clapped her hands in delight, with a huge smile on her face. Lorelai walked over to her friend and they stared at each other before Sookie giggled and hugged her tightly. Lorelai laughed.

"You're tying the knot!"

"As tight as it gets," she answered.

"Don't be nervous. I was so nervous on my wedding that I stumbled and almost fell down, and it's so sad, 'cause then there wouldn't have been a wedding and -" Sookie rambled while tears were starting to form in her eyes.

Lorelai held her shoulder assuringly. "I'm not nervous, I promise." Sookie nodded and touched her eyes gently to avoid tears from falling. "There will be no stumbling," Lorelai added.

"Okay," Sookie said with an overly emotional voice. Rory held her mother's shoulder then and Lorelai turned to look at her daughter.

Rory hugged her and Lorelai could swear that she could feel their heartbeats going a million an hour, at the same pace. "Growing up is hard to do," Lorelai whispered.

Rory nodded against her mother's shoulder. "I think we did it okay, though."

Lorelai laughed and they let go of each other. Rory fixed a strand of Lorelai's hair, hoping it would make a difference, and Lorelai squeezed her arm. "Getting married isn't as funny as they make it look on TV," Lorelai told her in mocking secrecy.

Rory tiptoed and kissed the top of her mother's forehead. "I always suspected that the TV was a liar."

Lorelai held her daughter's shoulder and they walked to the front door where Sookie was already waiting with the three bouquets in hand. "Oh, is _that_ why you take notes when you're watching CNN?"

Lorelai smiled, and Rory smiled back.

The church bells rang, as (especially) planned by Emily Gilmore.

Lorelai saw Richard take her side and Sookie open the door to the street. She poked her dad with her elbow gently, as a sign for him to give her his arm. As he did, she asked, "Ready?"

He never answered, but just before going outside she saw his face; he didn't look ready at all.

Outside, in the thin, pale yellow light of the winter, Stars Hollow was covered in snow and there was an almost ethereal quality to it, the simple townhouses from not more than three centuries ago and the white trees contrasted with the twenty-first century cars, and one lonely traffic light turning red. Almost all of the town was there, it was crowded like it only was on festivals. But Lorelai couldn't take it all in, she was beginning to not feel her nose or her ears anymore, she suspected that her cheeks were very red, the cold air invaded her lungs like tiny knives and she fastened her pace even though the ground was still slightly icy under her.

She took one look around. Lane smiled and waved at her, Christopher was obviously torn but did his best to smile too, Lorelai could see Liz mouthing something but couldn't understand what it was, Patty whispered that she looked beautiful, Mrs. Kim looked utterly pleased that Lorelai was doing something honorable. Kirk's camera flashed every too seconds.

She finally decided to settle her eyes on the altar. She had avoided it, fearing to have an epiphany at the Gazebo's steps. But he was there, and he smiled. It was a smile that everyone could see, but it was just for her.

And nothing, she didn't want to run, she just wanted to be there.

Rory and Sookie took their places beside Emily, who didn't seem to be having a heart attack; yet. Richard's voice came strangely amazed through her ear. "He looks... presentable."

Lorelai nodded. "He does, doesn't he?"

Luke watched her, her fingers with little red nails held the flowers tightly. He wondered if she'd be disappointed when she found out that he stopped on the pharmacy after he left her house, to buy polish remover.

She gazed at the golden Chuppah distractedly, and stumbled on the uneven surface of the pathway. The crowd 'ooh'ed, but Richard held her and she laughed at a jaw-dropped Sookie. "Thanks," she told her father as he kissed her cheek. "There will be no stumbling," Rory remarked with a mocking voice. She glared. "Wait until you do it."

Finally, she found her place at the altar, by his side.

"Are you okay?" Luke whispered.

"Yeah, I'm good," Lorelai whispered back.


End file.
